Carry That Weight
by Laura of Maychoria
Summary: Sometimes Lance wants to be carried.


**Note:** Ahh, I forgot to post this here! Sorry!

* * *

"Hunk!" There was rushing at his back, running footsteps, and then the sound of a jump, sneakers pausing on the floor and pushing off. Hunk braced himself.

 _Oof._

Yep, there he was. Hunk reached his hands back and caught Lance's legs as Lance wrapped his arms around his neck. Lance's weight settled on his back, head tipped forward over Hunk's shoulder for balance. Hunk turned his head to look at him, but Lance was hiding his face at the moment. Okay, so this wasn't a joyful run-and-leap-on-best-friend moment. This was an upset one, maybe even a sad one.

"Hey, Lance," Hunk said in greeting. He positioned his hands under Lance's thighs to hold him more securely, then kept walking. "Bad day?"

Lance mumbled into his shoulder, his arms wrapping more tightly around Hunk's front.

"Sorry, buddy, didn't catch that."

Lance sucked in a deep breath against Hunk's shirt, then lifted his head. "I can't _believe_ him!"

"Yeah?" Hunk looked forward as he walked down the hall. Other cadets were passing by them, going about their business. Very few gave them a second glance. Hunk and Lance had done this too many times. Hunk tried to remember where he'd been going. Back to his room? The cafeteria? Hmm. His stomach was grumbling a bit. He hooked a left and continued on his way.

As usual, Lance didn't need much encouragement to keep going. _"Keith,"_ he hissed in Hunk's ear, half squawk of outrage and half childish whine. "He hit the top spot in flight class _again."_

"Wow, what a jerk," Hunk said equitably. "How dare he. He is clearly doing this just to spite you."

"I _know._ And the commander even _complimented_ him. It was like oh, oh Kogane, did you know? You're the first cadet in five years to hit that level after only three months in the simulator. And you know what _Keith_ said?"

"No," Hunk said calmly. "I have no idea what he said. What was it?"

"He said 'Thanks.' Just that. Just... _thanks._ No emotion in his voice. His eyes were _dead,_ Hunk. They were _dead."_

"That's the worst," Hunk said. The cafeteria was getting closer. Hunk sniffed the air in appreciation. It was still half an hour till dinner time, but sometimes the cooks let him get a free sample early. He was friends with all of them, and when he got care packages from home sometimes he shared some of the ingredients his mom sent with them.

"Do you know how I would react if I got a compliment from Commander Yousef?"

"No," Hunk said. "How would you react?" He paused. "Has that ever happened?"

"Noooooo," Lance said reluctantly. "But if it did, I would be _grateful."_

"I know you would, buddy." Hunk gave his leg a comforting pat. The cafeteria door was right in front of him. He paused and gave it a longing look. Lance wasn't showing any signs of loosening his koala grip on Hunk, so he was clearly still upset and wanted to keep getting carried while he complained about his life.

Hunk sighed. Maybe he still had some snacks in his room. His sister had sent him a box of very tightly wrapped butter mochi in the last care package. He might have a few pieces left. Mouth watering, Hunk turned away from the cafeteria and kept walking. "And then what happened?"

Lance sighed and hid his face on the top of Hunk's shoulder again. "Nothing," he grumbled. "The rest of the day was fine."

"How did you do in flight class?"

"Fine. Not terrible. Not great, though."

Hunk hummed. To others, Lance played up how great he was and how he was always neck and neck with the fighter pilots even though he was officially in the cargo pilot track. When it was just he and Hunk, though, especially when he was feeling vulnerable, he was more honest about his skills. He must be feeling pretty down right now.

"I'm sure you'll do better tomorrow, buddy."

"Thanks, Hunk." Lance blew out a breath and relaxed against Hunk's back.

"I bet you'll even beat Keith."

"Maybe."

"No, you will." Hunk tipped his head to rub his hair into Lance's face, making him sputter and giggle, cringing away. "Maybe not tomorrow, but someday. You just gotta keep working on it."

He had reached their room. Hunk's hands were full, so Lance leaned forward and opened the door for them. Hunk walked inside, then turned his back to Lance's bed so Lance could slide off him. Lance rolled over on his stomach and hid his face in his pillow, and Hunk went to look for his butter mochi.

Sure enough, he still had some. Two pieces. Hunk looked at this rare and special treat, his mouth watering. They were very small pieces, and he really wanted to eat them both.

But after a moment he went and sat down on the floor by Lance's bed. He picked up one piece of butter mochi, then placed the box with the last piece next to Lance's hand on his pillow. Lance was still for a few more seconds, then reached into the box and took it. They put their pieces into their mouths at the same moment and chewed companionably.

"Mmm," Lance said. "That's really yummy. Tell your sister I said thanks."

"Sure thing." Hunk stood up and patted his back. He still had time to go check the cafeteria for an early sample. "Don't mope for too long, okay? It's taco night. You don't want to miss it."

Lance rolled his head up to give him a grin. "Wouldn't miss it. Though they still do _not_ put enough spice in there. Even for American-style tacos, they're pretty pathetic."

Hunk laughed. "I'll mention it."

Lance lifted a hand in a wave, then buried his face back into his pillow. Hunk waved back, then left. Still twenty minutes till dinner. Plenty of time.


End file.
